


Keeping Control

by Harukami



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Aoba tops!!, I can't stand you, M/M, it's not like i like you or anything, just leave me alone to die, so fucking embarrassing, you boys are embarrassing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 05:43:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harukami/pseuds/Harukami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Koujaku prefers to keep control in the bedroom, and it's probably only partially because he's got some pretty solid ideas of gender roles.</p><p>Another AOBA TOPS fic. I'm not even sure why I'm doing this anymore except I set it as a challenge for myself <i>I'm not even invested in Aoba as a top I just make bad decisions</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Control

It's not that Aoba doesn't sometimes have weird moments of thinking about his own sexuality, like, well, I'm definitely sleeping with and in love with a guy and that's kind of a huge hint that I like guys. He's pretty sure he's bi, at least, but in those moments of thinking about it he puts himself maybe at 20-80 or something, where girls are pretty and he's kissed some of them but it's just kind of not where his life is going and he's ok with that even if he hasn't really put it into words.

It's not that he doesn't have those moments; it's just that Koujaku's similar moments kind of steamroller them.

Like when Koujaku's fingers rest on the back of his neck and Koujaku says, in that kind of jokingly stunned tone, "You really look like a guy like this, Aoba."

Aoba looks up from the email he's answering and says, "Well, yeah, Koujaku, because I'm a guy."

"Obviously," Koujaku says.

Or like when Koujaku's flirting with his clientele -- all women, of course -- and Aoba waves on the way to work and Koujaku starts stammering as if he has to explain himself to someone here and ends up taking all the women out to drinks later in apology for having lost his composure in front of them and not treated them like the most important thing in the world.

Or sometimes Aoba comes home to find some women's belongings -- leftovers that got missed in the initial clean-up when he moved in -- in the garbage and Koujaku sitting at the table with his head in his hands.

Or there's the times they're lying together in a post-coital haze and Koujaku reaches around and kind of just grips Aoba's dick, which is funny but a bit over-sensitive at that point and Aoba just mutters _what_ to him and Koujaku says "Nothing," like he doesn't still have Aoba's dick in his hand and just holds it for a while like he's trying to figure something out while Aoba mostly finds it difficult to sleep like that.

It's sort of cute in its own way?, Aoba thinks. That's Koujaku all over. Koujaku's got too many issues with women for him not to have his own conflict here, but it's not like it isn't him he comes home to, it's not like it isn't him he confessed to. But for Koujaku it's not as simple as a vague kind of awareness that life ended up somewhere different from where he was expecting.

The only time it really feels irritating is during sex, though, Aoba has to admit, there's a lot of things he finds irritating about sex with Koujaku, like how weirdly sappy and suave he tries to get. Aoba's known Koujaku too long for that to work but it's a habit Koujaku can't seem to shake and what can you do about it? They argue a lot, but not aggressively, and it feels like their long friendship has just bled over into being comfortable arguing.

But if anything, he doesn't like how passive Koujaku kind of not only expects but tries to prompt him to be. It's embarrassing to admit it even to himself but there's things he likes doing, like blowjobs. Having a cock in his mouth is fun! It's probably not the sort of thing he'd _say_ but maybe if it would make Koujaku stop protesting, he actually might. He doesn't want to lie there and gaze up at Koujaku and just take it every time, and the fact that Koujaku tries to encourage it says way more about the type of sex Koujaku has had with women than Aoba ever actually wanted to know. Given that Koujaku's always been the 'lay back and let me spoil you and you shouldn't have to do a thing but receive this Koujaku's gracious bounty of pleasure' type it's not a surprise, exactly, and he can't deny that it's made Koujaku pretty good at what he does because it seems like he's used to being the only one doing it, but, really, for fuck's sake.

He can't help himself from wanting to poke at that just a little -- not aggressively, not meanly, not unkindly, just to sort of shake Koujaku a little and remind him that it's _Aoba_ he's sleeping with, not a universal ideal of elevated femininity like everyone else he's slept with, and bring him back down to earth a little.

So next time Koujaku starts to push him back into bed with that suave smile Aoba just reaches up and puts a hand on Koujaku's chest and says "So, I was thinking."

"Aoba?"

"Why don't I try being on top for once?"

He tosses it out lightly, like it's no big deal or something, and he's not exactly prepared to see Koujaku blanch, literally go white and worried, and immediately feels bad about it. What a stupid idea, he thinks to himself; of course Koujaku would freak out. Koujaku's spent years hanging his identity on being five hundred percent straight and has only just started to accept the fact that loving Aoba means maybe he has to readdress something he's treated as more like part of his identity than just some coincidental extra feature, like Aoba does.

"Never mind," Aoba gets out, at the same time Koujaku says, 

"Okay."

Koujaku still looks kind of freaked out, but he's smiling again, with that look of sort of strained understanding he gets sometimes. Feeling kind of bad, Aoba reaches up and tugs on his ponytail. "Never mind, I said," he says. "I get that it's weird for you. Just forget I said anything."

"Ah, well," Koujaku says, and it seems like the mood has kind of been killed anyway, so he shifts to sit back on the bed and push his hair back, revealing a hint of his tattoos before his bangs slide back into place. "No, to be honest, I've been the one thinking it's probably weird for you..."

"Yeah...?"

"Well, I mean, always being the woman."

Aoba pushes past his gentle urge to strangle Koujaku and says, with as much patience as he can manage, "You know, I don't think either of us is actually the woman, Koujaku, we're kind of both men--"

"No, obviously -- You know what I meant."

Sometimes Koujaku is just too much in a wide variety of ways. Aoba covers his face with both hands, scrubs, and wondered if this conversation would be easier or harder if either of them were wearing clothes while having it. "I know what you meant. I mean, you thought I was a girl when we first met--"

"You were a very pretty little boy, okay, I'm sure lots of people--"

"You cut my hair and were relieved to see that you were still attracted to me without it--"

"--Oi, Aoba, that's too much of an over-simplification even for you!" Koujaku grabs Aoba, hauling him upright against his chest. "I know you're a man, Aoba, we've been friends how long? Our friendship has always been a friendship between men, and just because we have sex now doesn't mean I'm _confused_ or anything, I just meant to say that I've been wondering when you'd get around to asking to switch roles!"

He _knows_ it's an over-simplification, but it's not like it's as irrelevant as Koujaku wants to say, either. He sighs, petting Koujaku's hair. "Yes, yes. It's fine."

"Doesn't sound fine," Koujaku says. "Aoba, I don't intend to deny you anything."

"It's not your preference. It's fine."

"It's not that," Koujaku protests, even more intently, and pulls back to look at Aoba, hands still grasping Aoba's shoulders. "--Well, I mean, it _is_ ," he stammers a moment later. "I won't say it isn't weird, but I'm not totally oblivious, you know."

"Just mostly?"

"Aobaaaaaa."

"Yes, yes..."

Koujaku shakes his head. "I'm willing to try. The moment I fell in love with a man I acknowledged that I'd be trying things I was previously against and found out that my love outweighed my discomfort for that."

Aoba finds himself starting to blush. That stupid sappy-- "K-Koujaku..."

"It's just... I'm... afraid to not be in control."

It comes out in a mutter, and immediately Aoba feels kind of shitty about making an issue of things. It's not something he'd initially anticipated -- Koujaku's struggle against the mind control has always struck him as something that takes place when Koujaku's being aggressive, but if he thinks about it, that's not the case at all. It happens when Koujaku's feeling defensive or protective, over himself or something else, and feels a need to regain his power in that situation. 

"Koujaku," Aoba says, and frames Koujaku's face with his hands, pushes hair back from the tattooed side of Koujaku's face so he can look him in both eyes at once. Koujaku looks embarrassed, ashamed -- about as much like a kicked puppy as a human being may be capable of. "It's fine. If we did anything you weren't comfortable with, that's the problem right there, right? Don't worry about it."

"I want to be comfortable with it," Koujaku says. "I'm comfortable with _you_ , Aoba. And it's just another act, right? I just... don't want you to have to worry about me when you should be focusing on your own pleasure."

And just like that, he's terribly, awfully _Koujaku_ again. "Oh come on, we can focus on both our pleasure, already!"

"Aobaaaa..."

"Just forget I said anything," Aoba says, and flops back into the bed as Koujaku's hands loosen. "I ...lll..." It's hard to get it out but he tries gamely. "I like. Feeling you in me! So. Let's just not worry about it."

"Aoba," Koujaku repeats again, soft and tender and embarrassingly grateful, and leans down to kiss him again.

Resolving to set the entire discussion from his mind, Aoba just wraps his arms around Koujaku and kisses him, slow and deep. When he runs his fingertips over Koujaku's back, he can feel the scars but not the tattoos, but he can imagine it too vividly, the curling colors and taunting flowers spreading under his hands; he just presses, tries to make Koujaku feel _him_ through the pressure of his hands, tries to make Koujaku feel like he's being touched directly and lose that constant awareness of Aoba's hands over tattoos instead of over skin.

Koujaku murmurs his name again, soft and husky, and they tangle tongues and limbs; Aoba finds a moment to be grateful that they were already naked before he'd brought this up, because he thinks it might have been harder to slide back into the mood if they needed to separate at any point to get things off, do anything other than press as tightly together as possible and touch and move. Sometimes, Koujaku pushed him back and insisted he be the one to touch Aoba, but this wasn't one of those times, the two of them grinding together roughly, hands moving and grabbing arms, shoulders, backs, hips--

He feels Koujaku's muscles tense a moment before, and doesn't really understand why until Koujaku's rolling them, until Koujaku's settling back on the pillows with his knees on either side of Aoba's hips, blushing and looking uncomfortable, but smiling regardless, eyes fixed on Aoba.

Aoba's breath catches and he starts to pull back a little, finding himself not able to move far due to Koujaku's grip on him. "Forget it, I'd said--"

"I don't want to forget it," Koujaku says. "I want to give you everything you've ever even thought of in passing."

It's meant to be romantic, but considering some of the things Aoba has thought of in passing, he decides not to take it literally in the slightest. "It's -- it's _fine_ , Koujaku! I like it the other way, and --"

"Just one finger," Koujaku wheedles. "If I hate it, I'll tell you, and we can stop."

"Who's talking who into what," Aoba says, but he already knows he's giving in, stretches up to kiss Koujaku again. He doesn't want to take too long and unnerve Koujaku, but he doesn't want to rush either, so he just sucks on his own fingers, then drops a hand down, rubs a fingertip over that opening, feels Koujaku let out a strained, huffed laugh against his mouth.

He just kisses Koujaku for a while, sucking on his lower lip, scraping his teeth, and massages there with a finger while Koujaku squirms -- uncomfortably, ticklishly, or just reacting, it's hard to say. When Koujaku finally tilts his head to draw an unsteady breath, he presses that fingertip in, just a little, pushing Koujaku open.

Koujaku makes an unusual sound deep in his throat, slides fingers into Aoba's hair. "Aoba..."

"Seriously, we can stop."

"I never want to tell you 'stop'."

Aoba drops his face to Koujaku's neck, sucks there and slides his finger a little deeper. "Will you stop it with that kind of line?!"

Koujaku laughs, head tilted back, a flush high across his cheeks and nose. "You always say things like that..."

"Because you always say that sappy stuff," Aoba mutters, and keeps moving his finger, slow and careful, since Koujaku isn't protesting, isn't doing more than continuing like he always does, but with a sort of distant focus on his face like he's trying to feel everything. "Is this--"

"It's fine. You're fine. You're perfect."

Aoba spreads his free hand on Koujaku's chest, feeling out his muscles, the unsteady way Koujaku's breathing is coming, but he doesn't seem like he's going to hulk out or anything, so he focuses on just trying to make Koujaku feel good, bending down as his finger moves in Koujaku and taking Koujaku's cock in his mouth.

Koujaku moans and tenses, and Aoba can't help but think of how Koujaku always protests when he does this, but he just curls his fingers in Aoba's hair and holds on. Aoba closes his eyes, mouth filled with the taste of Koujaku, nose filled with the scent, and struggles against his own arousal as he presses a second finger into him, but it's hard not just wanting to toss caution to the wind and just ride him instead, not with Koujaku's body flexing around his fingers and his cock halfway down his throat.

"Hn..." Koujaku makes a noise that sounds like he's maybe coming undone a little, and his hips twitch up to thrust into Aoba's mouth -- but that shifts Aoba's fingers in him and stretch him open more and he sucks a gasp, shuddering hard. "Aoba. If you want to -- move on -- you can--"

 _He wants me to fuck him_ , Aoba thinks with a little inexplicable surprise because at this point he's pretty sure he should have had that realization already, that it should be really obvious, but it still feels like a shock regardless. He lifts his head, feeling Koujaku's hard dick slide from his mouth, and has a horrifying, additional realization. "I -- I can't--"

"Idiot, I keep saying--"

"No, I -- I'm too close," he admits, and hides his face in Koujaku's thigh, above his still probing fingers. "Oh my god."

Koujaku starts to laugh and, face flaming, Aoba turns his head and bites Koujaku's thigh. "Haha -- o-ow, come on, Aoba, it's fine, I promise--"

"J-jerk!"

"Go ahead, I'm sure you'll be fine--"

"I'm pretty sure I won't--"

"Yes, yes, come here," Koujaku says indulgently, and gets a hand under Aoba's armpit, half-hauling him up his body. Aoba lets out an indignant squawk, trying to stop him. "No, don't take your fingers out, it's fine--"

Aoba sputters, "Yes, yes, thank you for your magnanimity about the situation but--"

Koujaku's hand curls around Aoba's cock. "If you're too worked up, let's just get this over with and then take another run at it," he says, his tone suggestively lewd, though why he feels the need to pull out things like that when he's already jerking Aoba off, Aoba has no idea.

Not that he's got much focus to think about it, fingers curling in the sucking heat of Koujaku's ass, other hand braced against Koujaku's inked shoulder as Koujaku jerks him off briskly and relentlessly. He can't keep himself from jerking into Koujaku's touch, panting for breath. "Kou--"

"Just let it feel good," Koujaku breathes, and fuck him but Aoba does, closes his eyes and just loses himself to pleasure, panting roughly and thrusting into Koujaku's firm grip; it doesn't take long, barely takes more than a few firm strokes before fire rushes up his spine and he tenses into orgasm, making a truly obscene noise as he comes.

He spatters up Koujaku's arm up to his elbow and Koujaku makes a soft, hazy noise at that, lifting his arm and lapping at it. A sort of rushing noise fills Aoba's ears and he lifts his free hand awkwardly as if to stop him. "That's my--"

"So what? You're going to be pouring more of it into me later, aren't you?"

"Jesus Christ, Koujaku," Aoba moans, because Koujaku is just so fucking embarrassing and at the same time it makes him twitch again, half aftermath, half anticipation. It's not like Koujaku's going to let him stop, and he doesn't, just giving Aoba enough of a breather that it's not painful, but spreading his fingers on Aoba's stomach, running teasing brushes all over his torso, thumbing his nipples, sliding down to tease his cock and balls a little before running back up again.

It doesn't take long to get him worked up again; takes him an embarrassingly short time, to be honest, and Koujaku looks so smug about it that Aoba strongly considers being annoyed by it later, but his fingers are numb and the back of his hand is cramping and Koujaku is relaxed around him. 

"See? No harm done," Koujaku coaxes, a hint of mischief in his eye. "We've all come too early before, it happens to everyone sometimes--"

"At least I didn't get a nosebleed," Aoba manages to say back, sarcastic, around the fluttering of his heart and the arousal crawling through his body.

Koujaku actually goes bright red and pulls away from him a little, sinking back into the cushions. "Aobaaaa, can we stop bringing that up, it's embarrassing--"

"Fair's fair," Aoba says, and pushes himself up over Koujaku, tugging his fingers out.

Koujaku's breath catches, and he seems to forget what he's complaining about for a second. "Are we going to-?"

Aoba doesn't point out that it's what Koujaku was getting him all worked up again for or anything, just looks down at him. "If you still want to," he says.

For a moment, Koujaku just looks at him, and then he spreads his legs back and open and exposed and kind of embarrassing, face completely red, and holds up his arms to Aoba. 

"We can stop at any--"

"Aoba."

Aoba cuts himself off, exhales through his nerves, and pushes into Koujaku.

Koujaku makes a tight, thoughtful noise, and Aoba holds himself very still, trying not to think at all at how tight and hot Koujaku is around him, or the way his own pulse is fluttering in his throat hard enough he can feel it around his own breathing, like he's got a live moth trapped back there or something. "Okay-?"

For a moment, he thinks Koujaku is going to say _okay_ regardless, but his fingers smooth down Aoba's spine and he breathes, "Just give me a moment."

So Aoba does, braces himself on the bed and drops his head to kiss Koujaku's chest and shoulder, just thinking of how that skin feels under his mouth, trying not to let himself think of anything else. Koujaku's powerful thighs flex at his sides and it shifts his body around Aoba's cock; he swallows hard and keeps himself still.

Koujaku lets out a sigh Aoba can _feel_ , and he breathes, "You feel pretty good, actually."

Aoba swallows that moth. "Koujaku..."

"Mm. I can get used to this," Koujaku agrees, in his usual laughing affable tone, and some kind of tension slides from him. One of his hands creeps down, grabs Aoba's ass, pushes. "Are you going to move, though? Now's not a good time to go dead fish."

"I-- I was waiting! Like you wanted!" Aoba protests, but even as he does he finds himself moving. He can't really hold himself up for long, and doesn't try, not with Koujaku's arms and legs wrapped around him, hauling him in close; he just embraces Koujaku with all his strength, pressed so close to him that he doesn't think they could separate if he wanted to, like they could blend together like this. It leaves him thrusting in small, brief movements, because he's in too deep and held there to do bigger movements.

But Koujaku seems to like it, is making hoarse, soft, appreciative sounds into the top of Aoba's head, clinging to him with fingers wandering all over his back, down to his lower back and pressing broad-palmed to him; it takes Aoba a moment to realize that Koujaku is feeling the way his muscles move when he thrusts and the thought is somehow mind-blowing. Literally, it seems to blow the thoughts out of his head and he just finds himself feeling those two spots of warmth on his back and the pleasure of moving in Koujaku as he thrusts and thrusts and thrusts.

He feels close again already but like he can hold out and tries to -- Koujaku is keeping him too close for him to grab Koujaku's cock and try to hurry things up for him, so all he can do is keep moving and hope it's as good for Koujaku as it is for him; or as good as it is when Koujaku does it to _him_. It feels good, amazing, hot and tight and tugging at him with an intensity he hadn't even imagined, but he just finds himself thinking about Koujaku, Koujaku's sounds, the stuttering of Koujaku's breath, the movement of his body, wanting to make it good, wanting to be sure it's good. It's hard to tell, harder than when he's letting Koujaku do what feels good, but he doesn't think Koujaku's sounds are lying either, and he sucks at Koujaku's shoulder, pulling skin between his lips, with a sudden strange urge to mark him up, to write himself on the surface of Koujaku's skin where Koujaku will see it later in the mirror, before he notices any of the rest of it--

Koujaku makes a sudden ragged groan, and one of his arms loosens, patting down Aoba's shoulder to his elbow, which is as far as he can reach from how tightly they're clinging to each other. Realization hits Aoba in a rush and he frees his arm, twists it awkwardly to grab Koujaku's hand, and perhaps he never needed to worry about whether or not Koujaku was enjoying it enough because he'd always know from this, always, always know when Koujaku was ready to come because he'll always do this, always try to hold his hand.

Hand grasping his with a feverish intensity, Koujaku presses his head back in the pillow, grinding up under Aoba, and breathes his name; a hot warmth spreads between their bodies and Aoba lets out an almost grateful sob and just lets go of what little control he'd had, pounding into Koujaku and clinging to him, fingers tight enough on Koujaku's hand they almost hurt.

Aoba comes a moment later, as if knowing that Koujaku could come was the only thing that had held him back at all, and it doesn't seem to matter that he came once already -- it's good, tight and intense and rocking through him, throbbing through his entire body, as he presses deep inside Koujaku.

Slowly it ebbs from him, and he sinks down against Koujaku more in exhaustion this time. Koujaku's hand is still tight on his, and he adjusts his grip to be more comfortable, to slide their fingers together a little. 

"Koujaku..."

"Mm." Koujaku draws a deep breath, as if seeing that he's still able to do so, and lets it out slowly. His breath rustles Aoba's short hair, and he turns his head a moment later, kissing the top of Aoba's head. "You're wonderful."

Somehow, a hint of embarrassment comes back. Koujaku's limbs have relaxed, and Aoba frees himself, shifting off Koujaku to curl against Koujaku's side instead. As he slips free, Koujaku makes an absolutely obscene, surprised sound, and then lets out a laugh.

Aoba tries to ignore it, one hand splaying on Koujaku's chest. "...You're okay?"

"I'm fine," Koujaku says. "I'm great. It's always wonderful with you."

"...Koujaku..."

Koujaku pulls Aoba closer, cuddling. "I should have realized I didn't need to worry at all about letting go of my control when it's with you. I've already given you my heart and soul; giving you my control is hardly a big step, when you think of it this way."

...And just like that, he's impossible again. Aoba makes a face into Koujaku's chest. "Wow, thank you. I'm so blessed."

"Aobaaa," Koujaku complains, and Aoba laughs, just a little, and refuses to rise to the bait any more, just listening to the rhythm of Koujaku's heart as it calms down again.


End file.
